Half a day later, nightfall.
Carefully searched everything around the cabin, repeatedly read the information that had entered his mind.
When the moon was in the sky, Heracles carried the abandoned puppet in one hand and held the key in the other, arriving at a forest clearing.
In the center of the clearing, there was a small burial mound, and the soil on it was very fresh.
With one glance, it was clear that it was newly dug soil from recent years.
Leaning against the low mound, the great hero gazed at the clouds overhead and the moonlight.
A breeze passed through, bringing a touch of dampness from the creek.
"Hoo..."
After a long time, Heracles slowly spoke.
Beside him, only the tattered puppet listened quietly.
"...Ande, actually, you've been here all along, haven't you?"
"...Yes." Beside him, only the tattered puppet listened quietly.
"...Ande, actually, these many days,
Half a day later, nightfall.
